


The Better Angels

by BradyGirl_12



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Superman (Comics), Superman/Batman (Comics), World's Finest (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Guardian Angels, Angels, Angst, BradyGirl_12 Fic Prompt/Request Fills, Drama, Fallen Angels, Fantasy, Gift, Gift Fic, Guardian Angels, Legends, M/M, Male Slash, Mythology - Freeform, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Slash, World's Finest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 12:02:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1346749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BradyGirl_12/pseuds/BradyGirl_12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two Angels are sent on a Quest to find Pure Souls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Quest Begins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asm613](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=asm613).



> Warnings: Not sure if warnings are necessary, but it’s quasi-religious imagery.  
> Original LJ Dates Of Completion: December 5, 2007-May 1, 2008  
> Original LJ Dates Of Posting: May 11, 2008-June 10, 2008  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.  
> Original LJ Word Count: 346 + 1059 + 670 + 734 + 598 + 568 + 495 (Total: 4470)  
> Feedback welcome and appreciated.  
> Author’s Notes: [Asm613](asm613.;ivejournal.com) requested _"Clark and Bruce as angels on a mission to find pure souls"_ from my [DCU GSB Fic Request Meme.](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/75156.html)  
>  Unfortunately, my Muses simply refused to cooperate, and I was on the verge of giving up, when I got this idea. It’s not quite what the requester wanted, but close! So I hope you like it, [Asm613](asm613.livejournal.com)! :)  
> John and Mary Grayson are in this story very briefly but their deaths are an important scene.  
> All chapters can be found [here.](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/13235.html)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Quest for Pure Souls begins.

_“We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies._

_…when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.”_

  


**Abraham Lincoln**   
**First Inaugural Address**   
**March 4, 1861**

And, lo, the Angel of Light descended upon the Earth, clad in shining white raiment with piping of rubies, gold, emeralds and sapphires. White wings majestically spread out, the Angel fair of face with eyes the color of the sky.

The Darkness swallowed him in the Black Forest and his Light made the unsavory scurry away, the stench of decay wrinkling his nostrils.

“Come, show thyself,” he ordered, calmness radiating from him as his wings enfolded his robes of red-yellow-and-blue. A scarlet cloak shimmered down his back like a waterfall, the wings poking through. His sandaled feet hovered inches above the ground, robes fluttering as he hovered inches above the dank ground.

“Who are you?” came a raspy voice from the shadows.

“The Angel Kal-El.”

“Why are you here?”

“To assist you on your Quest.”

“I need no assistance.”

“It has been ordered otherwise.”

A muffled curse, then a dark figure melted out of the shadows.

Black wings completely covered the figure, a hood concealing its face. A black-gloved hand flexed while the other rested on the hilt of an ebony-handled Sword. Amethysts sparkled on the hilt, the only color on this creature.

“What is your name?” asked Kal.

“The Angel of Death.”

Kal frowned. “Your name.”

“Death.”

Kal drifted forward. “We are to find the souls of the Pure and welcome them to the Light.”

The black glove clenched the jeweled hilt. “Or claim them for the Dark.”

Kal drew his Sword: golden hilt encrusted with rubies, emeralds, sapphires and topazes. The Light from the Sword was blinding, the creatures of the Dark recoiling.

Death drew up his wings and shaded his eyes. “Your Light is…annoying.”

Kal laughed, the sound like silvery water over smooth stones. “I beg forgiveness.” He sheathed the Sword. “Let us begin.”

With a rustle of wings, Kal ascended, Death following close behind.


	2. City Of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Angels descend into Gotham.

  
_Darkness curls_   
_‘Round the city_  
 _Like tendrils,_  
 _Choking the life_  
 _Out of the Light._

_Can this city_   
_Be saved?_   


  


**Allison Simmons**   
**"City Of Darkness"**   
**1941 C.E.**

The journey had begun, skies of lemon-yellow, rose-pink, and tangerine-orange filigreed with cottony white. The Angel of Light flew side-by-side with the Angel of Death, great and terrible, until they reached a great city and alighted on a crumbling rooftop. 

“This city is so dark.” Kal-El surveyed it with distaste.

“A good place to find the damned.”

Kal frowned but made no comment. He surveyed the dark streets then pointed. “There.”

Death held out a hand. “Let me.” A pause. “I can observe better.”

Kal frowned again, but nodded.

Death swooped down, melting into the shadows.

The petty crook pulled out a gun, nickel plating gleaming in the dull light of the streetlamp. He pointed it at a well-dressed man of about thirty.

“Wallet,” he rasped.

The victim’s hand shook as he reached into his jacket and pleaded, “Don’t shoot.”

“Hurry up!”

The victim fumbled, the crook getting twitchy. His finger shook on the trigger.

“Enough!”

Death knocked the gun out of the robber’s hand. The victim yelled and took off, the crook staring at the black-winged apparition with wide eyes.

“Why were you robbing that man?”

The man blanched. “I…I…” He swallowed. “I’m desperate! My wife’s sick and we don’t have health insurance. I’ve been out of work so long I can’t get a job. I…I’m sorry, I didn’t know what else to do!” He shook under Death’s stare from the depths of the hood, then he bowed his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Death held out his hand and the would-be robber put the gun into it. Gloved fingers curled up around the weapon and it disappeared into the folds of the black cloak.

“Go, and do not rob again.” As the man turned to go, the raspy voice stopped him. “Go to the Broad Street Clinic. Tell Dr. Leslie Thompkins that Death has spared you.”

Swallowing, the man nodded and ran off.

Kal descended from the roof. “This soul is not Pure, but may be someday.” Death said nothing and Kal continued, “Who is this Leslie Thompkins?”

“A saver of souls.” For an instant, Kal saw a gleam of teeth in the darkness. “And a provider of the damned to me.”

Kal frowned slightly. “When they die…?”

“Some are for your battalion, Kal-El. Some are rotted to the core and when Death comes for them, they have no choice.”

Kal nodded slowly, then ascended with Death’s dark wings billowing out as they whispered softly, the Dark Angel rising.

Soaring above the city, they scanned the dark streets, knowing whom they must accost when they saw him or her. Neither questioned how they knew it. It was just the way of things, as so much was in their service.

Kal turned and asked, “When you say their souls are rotted…you do not take only those?”

The hood shook back and forth. “No. Death comes to all, and on this Quest, I am allowed to take those who are…and are not…fit for the Light.” He paused. “Everyone has their Time, but this Mission seeks judgment of a different kind.”

Kal wondered what it was like, to continually dwell in the Darkness, and a trace of amusement entered Death’s voice.

“The Dark is not always evil, Kal-El.” His wings rustled in the wind. “Sometimes the Darkness is made up of pain and loss. It can be many things, and there are some souls that welcome Death after what they’ve suffered here on Earth.”

Kal considered that. “True,” he said slowly. “The Light is not always Pure itself. The souls we take…” His eyes were troubled. “They have committed wrong deeds, but it is the essence, the core, that we judge.”

Death nodded. “Circumstances can drive a soul to commit deeds that it would otherwise not, as we saw with that man back there.”

Kal refrained from commenting on his companion’s compassionate instructions to the desperate man. He was certain that Death would not appreciate it.

“There.” Death pointed and Kal saw the man in a purple-and-green suit. His lips thinned.

“A difficult case.”

“You mean the madness?” 

“Yes.”

“Madness is a worthy excuse at times, but we can see into his soul, Kal-El.”

Death swooped down. Was this the Clown Prince’s Time?

The maniacal clown looked up and began cackling. “So, Hell has come for me! What took you so long?”

Death alighted on the street. “Your Time has come, Joker.”

The clown danced delightedly. 

It was a Battle Royal, the Joker laughing manically as he feinted and thrust. The Sword of Death glittered in the pale moonlight, amethysts sparkling dark and beautiful.

Kal watched with interest, the moves of the Dark Angel smooth and fluid. Kal’s hand rested lightly on his own Sword hilt, but he kept it sheathed.

“Why have you come for me tonight?” asked the Clown Prince.

“You deal in Death all the time, Joker. Why not face it head-on?”

Delighted cackle. “Good idea, Fallen Angel.”

There was tension in Death’s voice. “I am not a Fallen One.”

“Oh?” The Joker parried. “Is that what you tell yourself?”

“I need not inform myself of what I am, Joker. I know myself well.”

Kal wondered if that was true.

The Joker plunged into Darkness with his sword, but Death lunged back.

“Good move, Clown Prince, but a foolhardy one.”

Death thrust forward and the Joker laughed even as the light went out of his eyes. He crumpled to the ground.

“Claimed.” Death wiped his Sword with his cape. “Your rotting soul has gone to its just reward, Joker. All the souls you sent early on their journey can be at peace now.”

Kal drifted over, watching as Death sheathed his Sword.

“Will it be unexplained?”

“Heart attack.” A pause. “No plea for me to spare him? To see if he belongs to the Light?”

Kal shook his head. “This man was not destined for the Light.”

“But still, it troubles you?”

“He was insane. However, even if not, I saw no trace of the Light.”

“Do not trouble yourself with regret over this one.”

“I am not.” Still, Kal always hated losing a soul.

They were off again, and left the dark city by the sea.


	3. Across Time And Universes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Angels speak of celestial matters halfway between Gotham and Metropolis.

  
_No matter_   
_What time_   
_Or place,_   
_I love you._   


  


**Alyssa Amethyst**   
**"Destined"**   
**2008 C.E.**

They settled for the night in a clearing halfway between Gotham and Metropolis. Kal gathered wood and with a flash of light from his eyes, the wood burst into flames.

“Handy,” his companion said dryly.

Kal laughed, the sound silvery like quicksilver. He settled his wings around his scarlet robes.

“Why do you wear red-yellow-and-blue instead of white?”

Kal glanced down at his robes. “I find the colors pleasing. I was given the choice, so I went with them.”

The hood inclined. “But your Sword also includes green.”

“It is so.” Kal watched the dance of the flames. “Green is the color of Life, as is yellow from the sun.”

“Blue?”

“Hope.”

“Red?”

“Passion.”

Kal smiled slightly, and his companion poked at the fire with a stick.

“So your titles are…”

“Angel of Light, Hope and Love.”

“Impressive.”

“And you?”

“Darkness and…Death.”

“Not Despair and Day of Reckoning?”

A rumble came from the hood. Could be laughter.

“Not necessary.”

“You are a very straightforward Angel, my friend.”

Silence fell, the crackling of the fire and the chittering of insects the only sounds around the campfire.

Kal fell into meditation, the peace soothing his soul. A lust for Life did not mean serenity could not be achieved.

Did his companion find serenity? The Angel of Death was known for implacable determination. Once your number was up…

“How do you know a soul’s Time?” Kal opened his eyes and looked at the hooded Angel.

“When every mortal is born, they have a Time. Sometimes it is Inviolate from birth. Sometimes it is Flexible, and due to choices that are made, one’s Time becomes Inviolate at some point.”

Kal frowned. “What of time travel? I have seen different timestreams changed because of a person saved when they were destined to die, or died when they were destined to live.”

“Everyone still has a Time.”

“How?”

A gloved hand gestured at the stars. “This Universe is but one of many. It and all others can be changed due to changes in history whether because of time travel or not. But if a time traveler has changed something, and it is not Destined, the universe dissolves in some manner, even if it takes generations. Time always rights itself in the end. 

“Other changes from this Universe take place because someone chose a different path to take than they did here. If a woman chose to marry a certain man here, she would do so. If she in another universe chose a different man, Time changes but it is right for that universe.”

Kal frowned again. “So free will is still important?”

“Of course it is. Free will comes into play if a person’s Time has not been Inviolate since birth. Eventually, though, every soul’s Time will come.”

“What of people who are Destined to be together?”

“Ah, you mean ‘across time and universes’?”

“Yes.”

“That happens. Certain people will always find each other, no matter what universe or what era.” 

Kal nodded slowly, once again watching the flames. He reached out to toast a piece of bread and his fingers brushed against his companion’s.

The fingers were stiff and cold, briefly flaring into warmth.

Death pulled back, using his stick to make nonsensical patterns in the dirt. Kal stared back into the fire, hoping that the flames covered the blush in his face. 

He was always so warm, like the sun itself, that he had been startled by the coldness of Death.

And was that brief warmth his…or his companion’s?

Dry amusement laced his companion’s voice. “Night is _my_ time, Kal-El. Perhaps you should dim your Light.”

Kal realized that his Aura was shining extremely bright. “My apologies,” he blushed as he dimmed his Aura. He stretched out on the hard ground. “Good night, my friend.”

“Good night.”

Kal felt peace settle over him as gently as his wings, very aware of the Darkness surrounding him.


	4. City Of Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Angels descend into Metropolis.

  
_Light blazes_   
_‘Round the city_   
_Like a_   
_Miniature sun._

_Will this city_   
_Be the shining one_   
_On the hill_

_Or burn out?_   


  


**Allison Simmons**   
**"City Of Darkness"**   
**1942 C.E.**

Metropolis was the opposite of her dark sister Gotham, and Kal felt heartened. Surely there would be Pure Souls here! He spoke it aloud, and Death sounded amused.

“It has been my finding, Kal-El, that amongst those who dwell in the Light on Earth, you may find the Dark-Hearted. And,” his wings were powerful as they flew over the shining city “…the reverse is true. In shadowed old Gotham, you can find Light.”

Kal considered those words. Death often lent insight into these things.

“There.” Kal pointed to a prominent building. Death followed him to the roof.

The golden globe lazily revolved on the roof, the words, _The Daily Planet_ bold-on-gold. Kal touched the globe, Death prowling back-and-forth.

“We should begin,” Kal said.

The Dark Angel nodded.

& & & & & &

The young woman was frightened but Kal held out his hand. His smile dazzled her. She took his hand and the Light grew, shining as they disappeared from mortal sight.

Death’s gloved hand was on her back.

The Light dissipated, leaving only the Angels.

Kal smiled. “She is One with the Light now.”

His companion nodded. He seemed restless as he paced, glove on the hilt of his Sword. 

Kal lifted his eyes to the sun, the warmth of the Earthly light touching his celestial body. He touched the hilt of his Sword, the jewels pulsating as he felt pure Joy suffuse his soul, energy coursing through him as contentment touched him. He wished that Joy could be with him always.

He opened his eyes, the Dark Angel pulling his hood back slightly.

Instead of total masking, now Kal could see the lower half of Death’s face, eyes hidden by white lenses.

_Or soulless eyes?_

Kal did not think that to be the case. He and the Angel of Death had fallen into companionable silence during their journey.

He did not fear Death.

“Where next shall we journey?”

Kal considered. “Suicide Slum.”

Death nodded, grasping his Sword hilt tightly. He would be able to lay claim there.

& & & & & &

Death sheathed his Sword, pleased at this night’s work.

“The dark souls that prey on the fearful are abominations.” 

“But must you take them all?” Kal asked.

His companion shrugged. “Death comes to every man.”

Kal fluttered inches above the ground. “You have no regrets about the scum.”

“None.”

“What of the innocent? The old, the sick, those killed in accidents or war?”

The black-robed figure turned away. “I go where I am sent.”

“You must be very lonely.”

A sound came from the Dark Angel. It could have been a snort or a sob.

“Angels are not subject to mortal emotions.”

Kal’s wings fluttered as he drifted. “I beg to differ, my friend. Angels are serene, but not without feeling.” He smiled slightly. “How do you think there are Fallen Angels?”

Death turned swiftly, his jaw trembling. “I am _not_ a Fallen Angel.”

“I know.” Kal’s voice was gentle. “Just a lonely one.”

His companion’s jaw clenched and he spread his ebony wings, flying away.

Kal started to go after him, then hesitated. He folded his wings and watched the sky streak rose-gold as the sun came up, a tiny dark figure silhouetted against the soft colors.

& & & & & &

Kal-El flew over the city, the morning sun reflecting off tall glass buildings. The day was beginning with promise in the air.

It was his favorite time of day.

Except…

This day he felt hollow.

Light needed the Dark to be whole.

Swallowing, he sought out the Pure Souls.

& & & & & &

Kal admitted to himself that he was at a loss. He had not been able to find any Pure Souls, and he could not bring Death to those whose Time had come.

He wandered aimlessly, wondering if he should return heavenward. His shining white wings beat with powerful strokes, the air currents flowing as Kal flew.

“Careful, Icarus flew too close to the sun, and you know what happened to him.”

“D…my friend!” Kal’s smile was sunlight itself.

A slight smile quirked Death’s lips. Black wings briefly touched white, and Kal smiled as they flew onward.


	5. Day Of Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex Luthor’s Time has come.

_Death comes to every man._

  


**Unknown**   
**14th Century, C.E.**

Lex shut the lights off in his office and headed up to the roof of the LexCorp Building. He wanted to enjoy a little night air before summoning his helicopter.

The deal he had just consummated had put him at the pinnacle of his power, he reflected as he jogged up the stairs. He had cut a wide swath through the Metropolis business community, and had continued to do so throughout America and the international community.

He was king of all he surveyed; Metropolis was his; he was a true Luthor.

Nothing could stop him now.

“Your Time has come, Lex Luthor.”

Lex turned, astonished at the sight that greeted his eyes: a shimmering red-yellow-and-blue vision with an ethereal face and shining white wings, and his companion, cloaked in ebony as black wings shimmered in the moonlight, face hidden by the folds of his hood. 

“What the hell…?”

“Not quite,” rasped the Dark One. He drew a Sword that glittered with amethyst jewels. 

“Who are you?” Lex demanded.

“We are on a search for Pure Souls, Lex Luthor,” said the Shining One.

Lex smirked. “You’ve come to the wrong place, then.”

“We know.” The amethyst Sword thrust up into the sky. “Your Time has come.”

“You said that already.” Lex backed up, his arm brushing against his jacket pocket and the comforting bulge there.

“When a man meets his Time, he deserves a proper send-off.”

Lex pulled out his gun and aimed. The Sword knocked it out of his hand, then the wielder prepared to strike the killing blow.

 _“’Death be not proud,’”_ Lex sneered.

“You cannot cheat Death.” The rasping voice was implacable.

The Sword began to descend.

Lex felt a paralyzing fear.

The clang of steel-on-steel shocked him.

Shock laced the rasping voice as well.

“You would stay Death’s hand?”

The Shining Angel’s glittering Sword crisscrossed the Dark Angel’s weapon.

The Angel of Death was not pleased.

“You will not prevent me from performing my function. I can see his rot…”

“And my function is to see even a flicker of Light.”

If Lex could have seen the Dark One’s mouth, it would have been twisted, he guessed.

“Then it must be deeply buried.”

“It is.” The Shining One’s hand gently covered the Dark One’s black glove. “Lex Luthor, you must touch the better angel of your nature.”

Lex frowned. “I hate to disappoint you, my shiny friend, but I have no ‘better angel’.”

“Dig deeply, Lex Luthor. Try hard, because you will have a year-and-a-day to discover the Light within, or Death will return.”

Lex’s nerves were jangled. Was this all a dream?

“So, you and the Prince Of Darkness here….”

“I am _not_ the Prince Of Darkness!”

Lex could feel the anger radiate from the black-winged figure and took a step back involuntarily.

“Work very hard, Lex Luthor. Your life depends on upon it,” said the Shining One.

The Dark Angel grudgingly sheathed his Sword, flying away.

& & & & & &

“I am sorry.”

They flew in unison, the Dark Angel silent. Kal’s expression was solemn, and finally, his companion spoke.

“It was not what you did that angered me.” His wings beat powerfully.

Kal’s wings touched his friend’s. “It was what Lex said?” The Dark Angel remained silent but his wings trembled. “I know you are not of the Lower Realm, my friend. I know you are not the Prince Of Darkness.”

Kal thought he heard the whisper, “I was a Prince once,” but could not be sure.


	6. Heaven On Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kal wants more from his companion.

  
_My flesh sings_   
_From thy touch,_   
_Like a whisper_   
_Soft as silk,_   
_Delicate,_   
_As Angels’ wings._   


  


**Song Of Rao**   
**"The Book Of Rao"**   
**6626 B.C.E.**

The fire crackled, Kal feeding it with more twigs. He could feel their Quest drawing to a close, but not quite. He never questioned how he knew these things. It would be like questioning the sun coming up in the morning or the seasons turning.

Kal took a piece of golden fruit from his robe. Angels did not need to eat, but they could do so for pleasure. He held out the fruit to his companion.

For a moment, the Dark Angel did not move, then he reached out and took the proffered food.

Their fingers brushed, Kal feeling the cold again, then a surge of warmth. A spark of Light winked between them.

His companion took the fruit, white teeth flashing as he bit into it.

Kal bit into his fruit, the juices sweet and flavorful. It was a white-fleshed peach, the rosy-gold skin fuzzy and lush.

_And what would your skin look like, my friend? Taste like? After all, it would not be Heaven if Angels did not have sex._

“Friend of my heart…”

“Please.” The peach trembled slightly in the glove. “I…I cannot…”

“Are you certain?” Kal’s eyes were very blue. “Pleasures of the flesh are not something to be ashamed of. It is a great gift to be treasured.”

The Dark Angel shivered. “Please…I…”

Kal’s heart triphammered. Sadness washed over him. To be so alone, so without Love…

He very gently curled his fingers over his companion’s. “Please, D.”

For a moment, they remained a set tableau, then the Dark Angel touched his forehead to Kal’s. “I cannot…I must keep my cloak on.”

“Whatever we must.”

Kal brushed her hands over strong biceps, feeling warmth spreading through hard muscles. Kal slipped his hand beneath the folds of the dark cloak, his companion shivering, then tentatively reaching out to touch Kal’s broad chest.

Kal was touched by the trembling fingers exploring him. It was as if his friend feared touch…or was starved for it?

Kal wanted to see the face beneath the hood but respected D.’s wishes. He felt fortunate to be this close.

He let this senses heighten: firm flesh beneath the cloak, clad in robes as he was; little breathless gasps as Kal touched gently; a pleasing sandalwood scent, not decay as one would associate with Death.

Kal sighed happily as his nerves sang with sensation, his companion’s touch delicate yet skilled. How long had it been since he had known such pleasures? How long since he had felt this connection with anyone? 

White and black wings touched, a tingle of electricity going through Kal with a power that went down to his bones. It was exhilarating, uplifting, soaring to great heights…

His eyes closed and his lips parted, leaning forward…

“I am sorry.”

Kal felt his companion pull back. He opened his eyes and saw regret in his lover’s body.

A gentle warmth filled Kal. He placed his hand on the other’s chest.

“It is all right.”

_Poor, delicate Soul._

His companion curled up a few feet from the fire, black wings draping over his body.

Kal waited a moment, then left the warmth of the fire to curl up beside the Dark Angel, white wings enfolding them both as Death sighed softly.


	7. Quest's End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Quest for Pure Souls ends in a circus tent.

  
_There can be no Light,_   
_Without Joy._   
_There can be Death_   
_With Compassion._   


  


**Alyssa Amethyst**   
**"Destined"**   
**2008 C.E.**

The circus grounds were alive with the smells of sizzling sausages and fresh peanuts, children scampering around with cotton candy and hawkers trying to lure customers to try their luck on the midway. The bellows of tigers and elephants mixed with the chattering of monkeys. Gaudily-striped tents of red-and-yellow billowed in the breeze, and inside the tents were lights, music, applause, derring-do, color…

The trapeze swung high over the ring, yellow-red-and-green sparkling and the smell of sawdust strong. Light and Joy filled the tent.

Death hovered over Haly’s Circus.

Kal watched as the circus acts played out. While his Light shone from the happy faces of performers and crowd, his companion’s shadow was there when a tiger swatted with a clawed paw or a trick rider came close to missing her footing after a somersault. The Quest was drawing to a close.

It was when the trapeze artists started their act that Kal-El’s wings tightened in anticipation. The family flew with grace and Joy, and their souls were Pure, the child’s Light so bright that Kal was nearly blinded. 

The ropes broke, Kal catching the parents as Death touched them, and then the Dark Angel caught the child. Black wings enfolded the boy as Kal’s companion knelt on the sawdust-strewn floor.

Kal swiftly flew down to the ring, ready to touch the child and bring him home when he froze.

Death was in agony. 

“I am sorry,” he whispered, the child’s big, blue eyes filled with Compassion, the small hand on the Angel’s arm. “I had to take them.”

“I know,” the child whispered back.

“I…Death took my parents, too.” The rasping voice was filled with pain. “That night, Death took hold of me, though I was unaware, but year-by-year, I grew deader inside, until I took the mantle.” His voice rang hollow. “Dead inside.”

The child’s shimmering eyes swam with Compassion. He reached out and pushed the black hood back. 

Kal gasped. He had half-expected a scarred visage, but this beauty! Suffering but fair of face, with dark hair and eyes of endless blue.

Kal’s wings shielded them all.

“I…” Death’s glove touched the child’s face. He looked up at Kal, shuddering with grief and desperation.

“It is all right, Beloved.” Kal reached out and touched his companion’s face. “There is always Hope.” 

His Beloved’s eyes glimmered with tears, and he moaned.

White wings enfolded all three as the Light consumed all.

& & & & & &

From that day at the circus, it was said that Death was less cold and implacable in a world that knew more Love and Compassion.

It was said that the Angel of Death flew with Hope and Love, and if brightly-colored Joy and Compassion flew with them, what of it?

The world could always use more Pure Hope and Joy, and Death tempered with Compassion.


End file.
